


A Broken Heart; A Dear Friendship

by themoonowl



Series: Spirits, Sorcerers and Soulful Nights [6]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Post-Break Up, Sera Being Sera, Tarot, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 02:23:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16053461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themoonowl/pseuds/themoonowl
Summary: A harmed heart hurts, heeded and helped to heal by friends.Or maybe pranks?





	A Broken Heart; A Dear Friendship

The familiar sound of clunking iron echoed throughout the castle walls as the gates of Skyhold were ascending. _Sylly's here!_ she thought. Yet only a bald elven man riding a hart decorated with green leather emerged and headed to the stables. _Oh, just elfy glory. Wait. Where's other elfy glory? They left together… shite._ She leaped from the battlements onto the stairs; a feat followed by deftly sliding down the banister and jumping down to the ground, gaining the momentum that propelled her to her target.

“Hey, you! Solas!”

The shouting made him shiver slightly, as if awakened from a dream. He quietly sighed, dismounted and turned to face her, straightening his shoulders and putting his arms behind his back.  
“Sera.”

“Where's the Inquisitor? I know you two went off someplace, what's the deal?”

“She will be arriving shortly, I presume.”

“Well, why isn't she with you?”

“That is a personal matter and I don't see it being your concern.”

“She’s my friend and I wanna know what you did to her.”

Solas's calm and portentous expression rapidly changed into a frown, voice amplifying.  
“And why do you think that? Why would I do something to her?”

“Because I've seen you two. You're all lovey together, but when you're not together, she's all floaty and you're all sad and serious and broody. So what did you do?”

He turned his face slightly downwards, the frown fading mildly into sullenness before his pompous facade returned.  
“It is complicated. Perhaps you can discuss it with her when she returns.”

“Ugh, fine… Arse.”

* * *

 

The familiar sound of clunking iron returned. The gates were opening once more, now welcoming a dark-skinned, ashen-haired elven woman. She headed for the stables, where a hart saddled in green leather could be found in the stall adjacent to hers, prompting a sinking feeling in her stomach. _Not here_ , she thought. Frantically running her fingers through her hair, she pulled some of the strands over her face and turned her head slightly downwards. She started going up the stairs, reaching the ramparts.

The battlements were almost abandoned, with only few soldiers stationed here and there. Convenient. Her heart weighed heavier with each step, her face felt bare, exposed. Many questions were echoing inside. Why did he leave like that? How would she explain this to hers and other clans? Would they even believe her? Even now, some of her people have disavowed her. What will this mean for her people in the future?

Step after step, Syl’i’ve’la reached the uppermost part of the ‘Herald’s Rest’. _The tavern? A drink would be nice right about now_ , she thought. Pressing on the handle and pushing gently forward, the door opened and gave a faint creak, followed by a soft thump as it was closed. Her footsteps gave barely a sound as she walked on the wooden floor.

 

She made her way further down the stairs, concentrating on each tread when her focus was disturbed by a freckled pale face with scruffy blonde hair.

“Sylly, there you are! You’re coming with me!”

Sera grabbed her hand, pulling with full force, leading her all the way to her chamber, exiting out the window and landing on the small part of the roof that was used as the room's terrace. Two mugs full of liquid were waiting for them; the strong pungent smell of rum mixed with the slight floral aroma of ginger overwhelmed the air.

“These are fresh. How did you know?”

“ _Elven glory_ came here first acting all sad and stuff. Well, more sad than his usual sad.”

“So…” Her brows drew together as her gaze shifted downwards. “Did he say anything?”

“Nope. Told me to bugger off and ask you.”

Syl sighed, took one of the mugs in her hands and took a long swig, wincing from the sharp pain in her throat shortly after.

“So, what's going on with your face? You go off with Solas and now your elfy dealies are gone.”

“They weren't what I thought. Originally they were slave markings. Solas… he told me how they were misinterpreted. The meaning changed.”

Sera started laughing jeeringly.

“Wait, why are you laughing?”

“The Dalish. They don't know anything, pfft. I mean you know, now. But they put on all this 'real elf’ stuff, and I knew it! - it's all just fancy dress. Nobody knows anything about 'real elves’ except they're gone.”

“Sera. Enough.”

“Alright, I'll drop it. But what's going on anyways? Solas came here all broody and now you come here all sad and something's up.”

“Yeah, we're… We're not together anymore.”

“This because of the elfy face thingies?”

“No, this was after. He removed my vallaslin, kissed me, then muttered something about being sorry he interrupted my duties as Inquisitor and…” She let out a long arduous sigh and took another swig from the mug in her hand, nearly emptying it.

“Hehehe, your doodies!”

A small, unenthusiastic smirk showed on Syl’s face, followed by a sharp glance aimed at Sera.

“Hey, what? You need a laugh right now, right? Or even better!”

“What, pranks _—_ ”

“Pranks!”

“I don't know _—_ ”

“Come on! It's perfect, we'll even make it rhyme! Now… what rhymes with your… maybe palace-seams? What about face… or thingies… or… Wait here!”

Sera fled through the window and a loud ruckus could be heard. Glancing through the window, Syl could see her rummaging through her belongings, occasionally stopping to look at an object before tossing it across the room. After a short time, she leaped out the window holding a piece of paper.

“Alright, so here's the plan. So, he took the elfy drawings off your face right? So, using this thing I have, we'll wait when he's sleeping and…”

Syl was watching Sera somewhat in awe as she explained her nefarious plot against her jilted lover. It comprised of different phases and steps and it was maybe the most complex out of all her hijinks so far.

“So, what do you think?”

“Sera…”

“No, don't 'Sera’ me. This _—_ ”

“I still love him, alright? And this is still fresh, I don't wish him ill. Just…”

“It’s not ill, it's fun. And he won't know it's you, I do stuff like this all the time.”

“Let's just sit here for a bit, alright? The sky looks really pretty, let’s just… enjoy it.”

Sera bowed, putting one hand on her chest and one up to the sky as a jest.  
“Okay, _your gracious ladybits_.”

 

They were sitting and drinking in silence as a cool, yet soothing presence started to swirl around them.

“ _It's not because of you._ ” The presence spoke almost as if she was hearing the words inside her head.

“How do you know?” she replied with barely a whisper.

“ _Solas, but now sorrows. Solas for the People, sorrows for the life he won't let live, dread for not deserving. You are Change, the Wheel of Fortune turning the Hermit's thoughts into Lovers’ thoughts. The Magician, but inside, the Fool._ ”

Syla couldn't help but smile as her eyes were getting watery, making it difficult to see. The hurt felt just a tad faded. Was it the fact that the man who broke her heart, the man she felt had a whole air of mystery and brilliance around him was now being referred to as the 'Fool’? Maybe it was the alcohol. It didn't matter. It felt just a little bit better, hopeful even.

Out of the corner of her eye, the ghostly presence made itself known; a pale face partially obscured by a large hat.

“She will be terrified if she sees you, you know.” she whispered again.

“She can't see me. And you want me to stay.”

“Thank you, Cole.”

 

The sky was turning just a tad crimson as the sun was preparing to set. The changing colours were marvelous to look at, yet the hurt was twisting, throbbing, expanding, pushing inside and out, making it difficult to breathe. Syl closed her eyes, letting the tears she held back fall.

 

“So really… did he yell 'elven glory’ when you two were doing it?”

“Sera!” She yelled, starting to audibly cry before the weeping became subtly intertwined with a laugh.

“Knew it!”

A hearty laughter could be heard echoing throughout Skyhold. It felt just a little bit better, hopeful even.


End file.
